Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down
by the morrighan
Summary: Detective John Sheppard balances a fine line...and sometimes crosses it.
1. Chapter 1

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down

_To sit in darkness here Hatching vain empires._

"Astounding! Come and take a look at this, Moira! Have you ever seen anything like it? Of course you haven't! It's an alien! An alien species, yet with remarkable similarities to humans!" Carson Beckett enthused, sounding almost giddy as he was deep into the autopsy of the Wraith. Specks of blood spotted his otherwise immaculate white lab coat and blue latex gloves.

Moira O'Meara grimaced, trying to keep the contents of her stomach intact. "Yes," she managed to say. She concentrated on the Wraith's hand she was holding between her gloved ones. Ignoring the gutted body as Carson rifled through the internal organs as if he was at a garage sale. She turned the clawed hand palm upwards to view the terrible wound. "The sucker is completely gone, ripped out of the surrounding tissues. The hand itself never healed properly."

"For a Wraith that would be a catastrophic injury," Carson agreed.

She examined the fingers. Rigor mortis was making them stiff, making them close into a fist but she pried them open. "Look at this, Carson! Adhesive pads on the fingertips. To attach to the skin of the victim, probably to keep the victim motionless during the infusion of the enzyme before the feeding." She thought of the scabs on John's chest. Suddenly they made sense.

"You're probably right, love. Strong enough to leave marks or to pull blood from the veins," Carson agreed, glancing at her, at the hand. "These creatures are truly predators, aren't they?"

Moira was imagining exactly what John had endured at the hands of the Wraith they called Todd. Their prisoner. How John was brought back from the brink of death, being fed upon and back again. Her stomach twisted. She dropped the hand to the table. "Sorry, Carson, I…I need a breath of fresh air," she stammered.

"Of course, Moira. Go on with you, then."

"Thanks!"

Jennifer Keller turned as the other woman quickly exited the room. "What's her problem?" she asked, the tone of disparagement discernible.

Carson frowned at the whiny voice, the attitude. "This isn't exactly her specialty, is all. She'll be fine in a tic. Now why don't you make yourself useful and weigh this." He plopped a dried out, shrunken liver into her gloved hands. Smiled as she flinched.

Moira hastened out of the lab and stood in the hallway. She yanked off the latex gloves. Cool air wafted down to her from the vents, but it still tasted stale. The scents of the autopsy lingering on her, around her. Antiseptic and alcohol and formaldehyde, not to mention the unique odor of a dead, rotting Wraith. She couldn't get the image of John being at this creature's mercy out of her head. What had been done to him.

She closed her eyes but the horror was engulfing her. She needed John. Wanted to see him healthy and alive and fully recovered from the nightmare he had experienced. She tried to block the images, wondering at the wave of emotion threatening to drown her.

John Sheppard stood in front of the cell. Hands clasped behind his back. Silent. Expression unreadable as he stared at the sole occupant. The room was dark, only lit by a bluish glow that cascaded down around them and glinted off the Plexiglas walls of the cage. The red light of the security camera blinking, blinking.

Todd stared back at him. A small smile on his pale, gaunt face. Hands clasped behind his back as if he was imitating his captor. He stood perfectly still. Only his eyes were moving up and down the human mere inches from him. The Plexiglas the only thing between them. For now. "John Sheppard," he intoned, his melodious voice almost loving.

It sent a shiver up John's back. "Yeah? So, whaddya want, Todd? I hear you've been asking for me. Between bits of your awful poetry."

"So much to do. So little time. Lights dancing in the sky. The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" He began to chant in a sing-song voice. "_Ring a round of roses. A pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, you all fall down!_"

John blinked. Reminded of the nursery rhyme the other Wraith had sung to him. He swallowed past a suddenly nervous lump in his throat. Disturbed he knew not why. "Can the crap, Todd!" John stepped right up to the glass. The blue light cast him in sharp relief. "You and I both know you are completely sane. Always have been. I've seen an insane Wraith and you're not it. In fact that one is lying on our slab as we speak, being sliced and diced like a salad. Fitting, don't you think?" John smiled at the flare of anger in those slit eyes.

Todd reined in his anger with an effort. Not upset at the death of the other one. He had expected it. Even welcomed it as that other's mind was disjointed. Of little use now. No, it was Sheppard's obvious baiting, his obvious enjoyment of telling him how the other one was being abused by its prey that was insulting.

"So what do you want?" John repeated slowly, as if talking to a child.

Todd stepped up to the glass. They were nose to nose, eyes to eyes. "To kill you."

John smiled. "Feeling's mutual, pal."

"Get anything out of him?" Richard Woolsey's voice broke the locked stare, the oddly intense moment between them. Todd stepped back, turning on his heel and heading for the center of his cell. John inwardly swore, stepped back and eyed Richard as he advanced.

"I was about to," John complained quietly.

"Solar winds and sails unfurled over a dry, dry desert sand and storm," Todd intoned.

"Just more bad poetry, I see," Richard observed with a sigh. But John noted the change in Todd once others were in the room. Made a mental note of it.

"I could make him talk," John offered.

"I doubt it. We've tried everything." A dark look came and went on Richard's face.

"I was special forces. Trust me, you haven't tried everything." John moved back to the cell. Deciding to test a theory he was forming. "What do you say, Todd? How about a little one on one?"

"Pitter patter of little feet is doomed. Lost lamb bereft of a shepherd. The flock is culled."

"I see what you mean. Don't waste your time here," Richard advised, already leaving the room.

But John was staring at Todd. The words were eerie. Threatening, even as they made no sense, had no context. They were more than a play on his name if he looked beneath the surface. "What are you trying to say, Todd?"

Todd looked at him. Smiled. "Can you hear the screaming, John Sheppard? The screaming before the endless, endless silence?"

"No more games, damn it!" John flared.

"Games of chance, games of fortune. Spin the wheel and win a prize!" He paused. Sang. "_Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!_"

John was about to speak when his phone buzzed. He snatched it from his pocket, stepping away from the cell. "Yeah?"

"John, John, I need…I…" Moira stammered.

"Lab? On my way." He ended the call. "I'll be back, pal. We're going to have a little chat. Just the two of us, with no cameras. No recordings."

Todd stepped to the glass again. "When I feed on you, John Sheppard, I will savor every last bit of your defiance, and shove it back as I did before. Do you remember that feeling?"

John glowered. "All too well. This time I'll be the one doing the shoving." He paused. "That came out wrong."

To John's astonishment Todd chuckled. "I don't swing that way, Sheppard."

John almost smiled. Instead he replied, "good to know, pal. Good to know."


	2. Chapter 2

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down2

Moira slid the phone into her pocket. Feeling silly, stupid, weak. She shoved stray hair out of her face, feeling hot and embarrassed. She couldn't shake the need to see him, to reassure herself he was fine now. She turned, hearing the distinctive sound of his boots on the floor. The measured, steady tread of a man knowing exactly where he was going and determined to get there efficiently.

She swallowed, nervous. Began to speak even before he turned the corner and came into view. "John, John, I'm fine, really, I just needed I just wanted, I just…oh John, John!" Tears filled her eyes as she rushed to him, flung herself into his embrace as he opened his arms to receive her. Not caring how he might react at that moment.

"Whoa, whoa, Moira!" John said, holding her close, staring down the hallway but there was no one there who might have upset her. There was no one there to see. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Easy now, Moira." He brushed his lips across her brow, her hair. "Moira, are you okay?"

She calmed. Secure against him. Feeling his solidity, his warmth. His strong heartbeat. "Yes." She pushed away from him gently. Uneasily met his gaze. "Sorry, John. I didn't mean to get all emotional. Blame my Irish ancestry. It's just when I saw the, the hand and where the sucker should have been and then the fingers, the adhesive to prolong the feeding process it made me think of you and what you endured. The marks on your, your chest were caused by that adhesive grip on the fingers when it, when it oh John!" She hugged him again.

John enfolded her in his arms, blinking at the profusion of words. Of sentiment. "Easy, Moira. I'm fine now. I'm okay."

She pulled back again, glaring. John fell into the depth of her brown eyes, into all of that emotion solely for him. "I know that! It's just, it's just you…the thought of that happening to you…what you endured…the physical…the…I…um…sorry." She drew away from him, heading for the lab. "I should get back to work. I've never done an autopsy and I felt a little sick so I had to—"

John followed. He caught her arm, spun her round to face him. Drew her into his arms again and kissed her. Startled she pushed then melted into the languorous kiss.

Moira bumped into the wall, realized John had gently pushed her there, his body aligning with hers as his mouth took possession and wouldn't let go. She gently pushed free of the kiss. "John? I…I said I was sorry!"

He smiled. "Moira." So much emotion in that one word she stared, mouth open. "I'll take you home, then."

"Huh? No!" She pushed, pushed, sidled free of him and the wall. "I need to finish this. I'm fine now. I said I was sorry, John!" she flared, as if he had yelled at her. She fled into the lab, her white coat flapping to either side of her.

John shook his head, amused. Enamored. He followed after her, stood in the doorway. The insane Wraith was gutted. Carson and Jennifer were going over notes, weighing shriveled internal organs and muttering their observations. John made a face at the odor. At the sight of the corpse. "Moira," he said, as she moved round the table to a microscope, "call me when you are done here and I will take you home. Moira?" She was ignoring him. "Moira!"

"Fine! Go away, John!" she snapped, eyes on the microscope.

Carson eyed John who shrugged, as baffled as the doctor. Carson stepped to Moira. "Here, love. Examine these tissue samples for me and see if you can isolate the enzyme cells. Jennifer and I will finish this."

"Thanks, Carson," she said, grateful. She glanced over her shoulder to see John still lounging in the doorway, his gaze locked onto her. "John! Go!"

He smiled at her tone. Licked his lips as his body stirred with carnal thoughts. "Going, your highness. Call me when you're done here."

"All right! Just go, would you?"

He snorted a laugh as he departed at last.

Rodney stared at the screen. "Whatever it is it is more sporadic now. I'll run a full sensor scan. I can't make heads or tails of this."

Evan was connecting a series of cables to the alien device. The Ancient panel had been removed, leaving a scar along the brown, fleshy communication module that had been pulled from the Dart to act as bait for the insane Wraith. Tendrils were spreading out from it, like vines off a tree. It had a squishy feel to it as Evan plugged in yet another cable to connect it to a monitor that Rodney was watching. "If it was emitting some kind of signal it's not now. It looks like its dying."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Rodney muttered. His gaze darted to the device, back to his screen. Back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. It was at times like this he really missed Radek Zelenka. Unfortunately the scientist had been an early victim of the Wraith sympathizers.

"What? That it isn't emitting a signal?"

"Yes." Rodney drew his dour thoughts away from his friend and back to the science.

Evan frowned. Thought. Gaze on the device. A tendril fell off. Like a dried off limb. There was a slight pulsing in the skin, where the cable was connected to it. It made Evan feel uncomfortable, as if he was aiding in torturing a living thing. "Because that means one got through," he realized.

"Yes." Rodney sighed, shaking his head. "It's possible, but highly unlikely that one got through the rift. Or where the rift was in real time and space. The location is not fixed, not in time or space but can be accurately predicted with mathematical equations. All of these atmospheric disturbances mean something. I suspected it was this device, that when it was activated it somehow initiated a protocol all on its own."

"Like a signal from a downed aircraft, a distress signal," Evan reasoned. "But didn't you say the rift was closed?"

"It was. Is. We've employed counter measures but.."

"But? I don't like where this is heading," Evan complained.

"Nor do I," Rodney agreed. "Give me time. I'll figure it out." He turned back to the screen. Seemingly dismissing the other man.

Evan considered. "What if it wasn't a long range burst but a shorter one?"

"Come again?"

"A shorter burst of data. A shorter distance. What if instead of trying to communicate through the rift, to another reality it is trying to communicate in this reality."

"There's no way it could…" Rodney spun in his chair to face the other man. "You mean in this reality's Pegasus Galaxy?"

"Yeah. There are Wraith there, right? If these realities are running at all parallel."

"I suppose there could be…I hadn't considered that. I mean I have but I dismissed it based on practicality. But that's impossible. I mean the distances between our two galaxies. Even a Hive ship couldn't manage that. It would be easier to travel through realities, through the rift than to traverse galaxies."

"Oh. Okay, then. I guess."

Rodney smiled. "It was a good idea, though. The Wraith don't have access to that kind of power, hyper drives and light speed—"

"Okay, got it. I think. This really isn't my forte."

"Really? Gee, I never would have guessed that." Seeing Evan's scowl Rodney dialed down his sarcasm. "And what is, Mr. Lorne?"

"It was flying, until that ended. Then it was art. Now I'm not so sure," he admitted with a shrug. "But I'll tell you one thing."

"And that is?"

"It sure as hell isn't science!"


	3. Chapter 3

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down3

John waved off the guards. He approached the cell alone. Boots clomping on the floor the only sound as he stepped from darkness to darkness to finally reach the bluish light showering down from the ceiling. He tapped the earpiece given to him by Rodney. "Kill the camera." He waited, half-turning to see the little blinking light in the corner.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Then it was dark. Consumed by the darkness surrounding it.

Satisfied John turned back to view Todd. The alien stood in the middle of the cell, arms at his sides. Expression serene. The blue light pouring down on him like an alien sun from an alien sky. Turning his blue jumpsuit darker. Turning his pale skin and hair even ghastlier. "It's just me now, Todd. You can quit the act. We're still cutting up your buddy, by the way. Your proxy. One of, oh, let's see…one of three, right?" John allowed himself a smile at the quick flash of surprise in those slitted, yellow eyes. "Yeah, thought so. We are finding out exactly what makes you tick. And what will make you talk."

Todd rushed to the Plexiglas wall of the cell, rage on his face, hand upraised to reveal the protruding sucker. John stood his ground, confident. But he did reach for his gun. Except it wasn't there. Instead a Wraith stunner was in his holster. It was awkward, heavy. But much more effective, although it wouldn't kill the prisoner. Only cause pain.

"John Sheppard. You can't guard your flock forever."

"Oh, I can. And I will kill every one of you things that threatens my world." He drew the weapon. Showed Todd. "This won't kill you, but it will hurt like hell. And I know a few things that will hurt more. So…let's say we have that little chat now, shall we?" He sidestepped to the panel. Keyed in the code that opened the cell.

Todd stood, staring. Surprise on his face. Stunned that he was being offered a meal so easily. That his nemesis was being delivered straight into his hands. He smiled, but when the electric jolt hit him pain encompassed his body. He growled, rushing for Sheppard but the man shot him again, again. Bolts of pale blue energy sizzling along every nerve, every fiber. Grimacing Todd fell to his knees next to the chair.

John advanced, cautious. Gun at the ready. He pulled some rope, a pair of manacles from his pocket and quickly set to work.

"Are you sure about this?" Richard asked. He was pacing, pacing across the expanse of the small room. He kept glancing at the blank monitors. The screens were black since the camera was turned off and it worried him to no end.

"Yes. I've got audio," Rodney assured. Hand to his earpiece as he listened. Staring at nothing except the blank notepad that sat in front of him. A pen was poised in his hand. So far he hadn't needed it.

"What if he goes too far?"

"That's why I gave him the stun gun," Rodney assured.

"Even so, he could still kill Todd. I don't trust him, and apparently he doesn't trust us. Turning the cameras off is a very, very bad idea, Rodney!"

"He's been trained for interrogation. He might be able to get what we couldn't," Rodney reasoned. He glanced at Richard. "I need to concentrate on this, so either sit still or leave." He regarded the pad of paper, ignoring Richard's ire.

"Fine." Richard sat across the room. Staring at the blank monitor. Clearly unhappy and upset that Rodney didn't seem to care. "If this goes south you will be to blame."

"Fire me, then," Rodney said, knowing full well that was the last thing that would happen.

Todd jerked awake, snarled. Struggled. He was tied to the chair, trussed like a lamb to the slaughter. He felt his wrists encased in metal handcuffs behind the chair. He snarled again, glaring pure hatred at the man who stood in front of him, tossing the stun gun from hand to hand as if it was a toy. As if this was a game to him. "You dare to treat me like this?"

"Yeah, I dare." John smiled. "As I said, I will kill every one of your kind that dares to step foot on this planet. Starting with you if you don't cooperate." He holstered the gun. Produced a long, sharp knife from a sheath at his hip.

"I know. I saw it in your mind, John Sheppard. I saw many things when we were joined."

"Whoa, pal, there was no joining! I don't swing that way."

Todd chuckled. "You pathetic human. You can't stop me. Why even try? You are already doomed, but your simian brains can't comprehend it yet."

"Whatever. I can and I will stop you. You're all alone now. Stranded on this planet. Nowhere to go. Whatcha gonna do?"

Todd's hands closed into fists at his back behind the chair. He felt the strength of the metal around each wrist. The ropes were tight against his chest, his torso. He smiled. Spoke in a sing-song voice, "_Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpy had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again._"

John slapped him across the face. "Can the nursery rhymes, God damn it! Don't start pulling that crap on me again!" He hefted the knife. Ran the sharp, sharp blade along Todd's pale face. "I will give you another tattoo, pal. Tell me what your plan is?"

"I just did, John Sheppard."

"And stop saying my name!" he flared, more unnerved than he let on. He drew the blade along the skin. Cutting the flesh. Red blood bubbled as he drew the knife right up to Todd's eye. Paused. Todd didn't flinch. A breath of air hissed between his lips. "What is the plan? Tell me now or you lose the eye!"

Todd shoved himself forward, into the knife. John jerked backwards, the blade narrowly missing the alien's eye and instead cutting into his brow. Todd laughed. "I will feast on you as I did before, only this time I will savor your defiance to the last breath that you take."

"What the fuck is the plan?" John snarled, grabbing Todd's hair and yanking back his head to expose his throat. John held the blade there. "I will kill you now if you don't tell me!" He stabbed the point of the blade into Todd's neck. Blood spurted. Todd made a sound of pain. Surprise. "Tell me!" John ordered. He could hear Rodney's voice in his ear, ignored it.

"Contact! Location! Coordinates! Information!"

"When? When?" John could hear Rodney's frantic voice. He could hear boot steps running towards the room. Men preparing to stop him. To intervene. John slid the knife down to Todd's crotch. Held it there as he leaned close. Lips almost touching Todd's ear. "I don't know if you even use this thing but I will cut if off and fucking geld you if you don't answer me! When?" He jabbed the knife.

Todd squirmed, hissed in pain. He struggled against the bonds, the cuffs. "The eclipse of the moon when the signal will be strongest!"

"John! God damn it, John!" Rodney shouted.

John withdrew the knife, freed Todd and stepped away, sheathing it as men flooded the room, Rodney at their head. "I'm done here. He's all yours."

Men entered the cell, guns at the ready. They untied Todd, removed the cuffs. Instantly Todd was on his feet but instead of attacking he touched his face, moving away from his captors. Injured. Furious. But patient, so patient.

"Damn it, he needs medical! Stun him and get Jen down here!" Rodney ordered. As Todd fell to a blast of energy he rounded on John. Shoved him bodily away from the cell. "What the fuck were you doing?"

"Getting answers, Rodney, like you wanted but didn't have the balls to do."

"And? And?"

"And whatever is coming, it's coming soon. When is the next eclipse of the moon?"


	4. Chapter 4

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down4

"The cell structure is unlike anything I have ever seen! The human and bug DNA strands are so interwoven as to be nearly impossible to separate for long. Carson, look at this! The basic body development is mostly human, except for these startling insect and even reptilian features!"

Carson moved to stand next to Moira as she was staring at a monitor. A three-dimensional scan of the corpse filled the screen, areas in different colors highlighting the different species found so far. All in the same body which was amazing in and of itself. "Yes, love," he agreed, removing his gloves. He glanced back at the now empty slab. The body was in cold storage for further study. "I suspect we'll find all sorts of proteins that we have never seen either. But it is getting late and we should call it a day. That thing's not going anywhere, you know."

"I know, but this!" She shook her head. "Even the bone structure, Carson! The curious ridges on the spine! What purpose could they serve? I need to study a live specimen in order to understand their genesis properly."

"That won't be happening any time soon." Evan joined them, shaking his head. "Your boyfriend just had a lovely torture session with Todd. Dick and his guys are in an uproar over it, although Todd is alive, just sort of injured. They've got that blond doc tending him now."

"Tortured?" Carson asked, glancing at Moira. "Was that necessary?"

"Yes. Look, doc, I don't like it either, but we need answers from this thing. It's not like aliens from space are covered under the Geneva Convention, right?"

"Still, it is a sentient being."

"Tell that to the people those things have killed so far," Evan retorted. "Besides, for some reason Todd will only talk rationally to Sheppard."

"Even so, torture?" Carson was clearly disturbed.

"He had no choice," Moira defended.

"You ready to go? I think they want us cleared out of here sooner rather than later."

"Yes. Moira?"

"Go on, Carson. John will give me a ride home. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, love. Let's go, Evan. After this I need a drink."

"You're not the only one. Know anyone who owns a bar?" He smiled at Moira.

"Funny. Moira, you're sure?"

"Yes, Carson, go on now. I'll be fine. Goodnight."

Richard slammed his palm onto the table. Winced at the pain but glared at the man standing on the opposite side of the table. "I knew this was a bad idea! I knew it! If you had killed him what then? He is our only link, the only Wraith left on this planet and we need him!"

"I wasn't going to kill him," John said soothingly, glancing at Rodney who was standing nearby. "I got the intel we needed. You have to play rough with this kind."

"I can't believe I sanctioned this," Richard muttered.

"Yet you sanctioned other means, and those were ineffective. Yet you sanctioned the use of volunteers to feed that thing. How can you sleep at night?" John taunted.

"Every one of those people went in there of their own accord and are—"

"Well, I didn't! So don't you dare take the moral high ground with me when you do stuff like that and call it for the good of the planet! Can't you see that thing is toying with us? It knows a lot more than it's telling us, and I will get it to tell us everything if you'd let me take off the kid gloves!"

"That was taking off the kid gloves?" Rodney asked. "Shit. John's right, as much as I hate to admit it. But you went too far, John. You could have caused serious injury."

"So? It's not an endangered species, it's a fucking Wraith that feeds on humans!" John was having a hard time keeping his temper.

"Get out! You won't be talking to Todd anytime soon! In fact you probably made him become even more non-cooperative and we will have to starve him into submission again!" A vein was throbbing in Richard's forehead as his fury was rising, rising.

John smiled. "Fine. Do it your way and see where it gets you. Rodney, the eclipse?"

"I checked. A full lunar eclipse will take place on June 15th. Only a few weeks from now. We still don't know what's going to happen, if anything. A communication, or contact, or what was it? Information?"

"We'll find out. Our way," Richard said.

"Call me if you need to really find out," John quipped. Left the room before either man could comment.

Moira turned back to the microscope. Hearing footsteps she began talking again. "The tissue regeneration is remarkable! The bone structure, the development from humans to this new species…retaining many of the human traits but expanding on them. No, evolving from them into something else. Evolving past our human needs and limitations. How did they ever come to be in the first place?" Moira's voice was full of wonder, excitement as she stared into the microscope.

"Beats me. You're the biologist."

She froze. She whirled. John was lounging in the doorway. "Oh. I thought you were Carson coming back."

"He left with Lorne. Saw them on the way out. You ready to go?"

Moira stared a moment. Tension rode every hard line of his body, despite his languorous pose. She turned back to the microscope. Uncomfortable after her emotional outburst and hearing about what he had done to the prisoner. Although she didn't know the details. "No. No thanks. I can find my own way home and I need to finish this."

John smiled. He moved to her. "Can you? We're a little far from a cab service. Come on, Moira. Let's go. I want a drink." He touched her shoulder. Fingered the white lab coat. "You heard."

She tensed under his touch. "Yes. You, you tortured it?"

"No. I questioned it rather aggressively, is all. I didn't hurt their pet. Much. I suppose that Lorne thinks I'm worse than them now?"

"No. Carson might. Evan defended you, actually. Your actions."

"Really? Wow. Huh. And you?"

She shut off the microscope. Slowly she turned to him. Met his inquiring gaze. "Me too. I mean, you, you did what you had to do. Right?"

"Yes." He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "I don't like it either, but we need the intel this thing has. By any and all means possible. It's not human."

"I know." She stepped past him. Removed the lab coat. "Give me a few to clean this all up and we can go."

"Okay. Don't take too long. Like I said, I need a drink. Several, actually. And you sure as hell could use a stiff one."

Moira smiled. "Are you still talking about a drink, sweetie?"

John smiled. "We'll just have to find that out, won't we, baby?"


	5. Chapter 5

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down5

John downed the Scotch. Felt it burn as it slid down his throat to his stomach. He licked his lips, watched as Moira did the same. She made a face, coughed. He smiled. Tapped the two shot glasses as they sat at the bar. It was a noisy, crowded mess of people and tables. Music was blaring. Laughter was loud, voices louder. The floor was sticky under their feet. John watched the glasses being refilled. "Better?" he asked.

Moira met his gaze. "Seriously? Worse now, thanks," she complained. Coughed again.

He chuckled. "Sorry." He downed the drink, smacked his lips together. Downed hers.

She sighed. "What now?" She almost had to shout to be heard.

"Another round."

"No! I meant the case."

"Oh." John smiled at the buxom barmaid who refilled both glasses. Downed his. Gestured at the other one.

She sighed. Downed it. Coughed and coughed. "God, that's disgusting!"

"What?" he exclaimed. "That's the elixir of life, baby!" he teased.

"The case?" she prompted, trying to be heard over the jingling of the slot machines.

"Oh." John downed the Scotch. "The case? Closed."

"So what's next?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You got me."

"Do I?"

He licked his lips. "Yeah . Let's go. You do need that other stiff one."

She smiled.

The buzz of the phone woke John. He stirred, shifting on the bed. He was tangled in lilac sheets with Moira on top of him. He smiled. He moved but felt constrained. He opened his eyes to see his arms above his head, handcuffed to the bedposts. He grinned, wondering when she had done that to him, and curious as to what she intended to do to him but the phone was still buzzing. Insistent. "Moira? Moira. Moira!" He jerked his body under hers, rousing her.

"Huh?" Moira woke. Sleepily eyed him, the way he was tied up in her bed. He flexed his muscles, making the chains rattle. Shifting deliciously under her. His hard, lean body hers for the taking. His body hair tickling her skin. She smiled. "John." She slid up his long, lean body to kiss him. Savoring the fullness of those perfect lips, that mouth.

"Phone," he instructed, enjoying her attentions. The kiss.

"Phone? Is that some kinky code word or…oh. Phone." She giggled. Glanced at it on the bedside table as it buzzed like an angry hornet. "I guess you can't get that, can you, sweetie?" She slid across, off him. Grabbed the phone. Slid back onto him and pressed the button. Held it to his ear.

"Yeah?" he asked, gaze on her messy spill of hair as it flowed along her naked skin. Her naked body pressed to his. Bare breasts partially concealed by her hair.

"Where the hell are you, Shep? I've been calling for hours! Hendricks wants you here ASAP!"

"Shit. Now? I'm all the way across town and chained to a—"

"Yes, now! ASAP, Shep!"

"Fine, Danville. Thanks for the heads up. On my way. Tell Hendricks I will be there in—"

Moira suddenly snatched the phone. "Hello? I'm afraid Detective Sheppard's being detained for extensive questioning and won't be able to leave for another hour."

"What? Who's this?" came the puzzled voice of the man on the other end.

"Don't worry. I'm a fully qualified biologist. I know what I'm doing." She ended the call. Slid to toss the phone back onto the table. Met John's glare with a saucy smile. A wink.

"Moira! I need to be in the—" John began, pissed, but actually the way she was moving on his body was quite delightful.

"Hush, sweetie!" She kissed him. "Let's just see how much interrogation you can take, shall we?" She nibbled along his inner arm. Kissed his jaw, his throat. She moved along his body, eliciting reactions despite his anger.

"Moira! I need to get to the office! Get that pert little ass off me and free me from these handcuffs, damn it! I need to oh fuck fuck!" he groaned as his anger growled into pleasure. She was sliding down his body, kissing and nibbling and biting. Running her nails sharply along his skin, sending shivers of anticipation along his cock. "Moira!"

"John, John, oh John…I will take you to task. Severely. Bad boy detective."

John tensed and groaned as she did just that.

Two hours later John hastily entered the precinct building. He had stopped at his place only long enough to shower, shave, and pull on some clean clothes. But that had not taken too much time. Not as much time as the sexual play had. He had been delayed by the teasing foreplay, then by the shuddering orgasms, then by Moira pretending to have lost the key to his handcuffs. Then by his having to spank her for her naughtiness, which naturally led to some very vigorous sex until he had finally dragged himself out of her house.

He tried to appear contrite but he couldn't keep the satisfied gleam from his eyes, the grin off his face. "Sorry," he said gruffly. "I had an interview across town."

"An interview?" questioned Hendricks, looking him up and down as if he could see the pleasure still thrumming along his body.

"That's not what she said," Danville commented. Laughter circled the room.

"Whatever. You're here now. You're heading the task force."

John blinked. "I, what? Huh? What task force?"

"You heard. You're heading the new task force. All of these violent deaths, these murders, the ones recently and in your past cases. I get the feeling they are all related in some way. Too many coincidences, and I don't believe in those."

"How could they be related?" John carefully asked.

"It's your job now to find out. Probe, probe deeper. See what you can find."

John was trying not to smile. He was wishing that Moira had heard those words. Oh, he had probed deep all right. Repeatedly. He couldn't explain this rush of feelings, emotion that went beyond the sex. He found himself wanted to send her roses. He found himself wanting to take her out to dinner at a real restaurant, not the diners they usually frequented. A real nice place, and he would even wear a pressed suit and a tie. He scowled, blaming these sentiments on the sex and nothing else. Nothing more. "What?" he snapped.

"Wow…whoever she is she has your head spinning," Danville observed.

"What? Of course not!" But he tried not to smirk as both heads were spinning, each in their own way. "Task force," he said, erasing all emotion, all erotica from his mind. "I don't see how all these cases are connected, sir. I mean there are different victims, different methods of murder, and different suspects."

"And if you include those older cases from before your accident it makes even less sense," Danville agreed.

John nodded. Remembering the fiction of his accident. The fiction of a drive-by shooting that covered up what really happened to him. Being killed by a Wraith with a gun, only to be brought back to life by another Wraith. God, he hated those things.

"Call it a hunch, Sheppard. See what you can find out. There's something going on here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

"Yes, sir," John agreed, wondering how on earth he was going to investigate without really investigating.


	6. Chapter 6

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down6

Moira couldn't concentrate. She stared dully at the fossil in front of her. Wishing it was something more exciting, like the Wraith DNA strands or a scan of the skeleton. A whole new species from another galaxy, a whole new evolution of a life form that she was only beginning to understand. To study.

But really she couldn't stop thinking of John. She couldn't stop thinking of all the exploring she had done along that long, lean body of his, strapped to her bed and at her mercy. She had never been so sexually adventurous with any man, not even her fiancé. Never wanted or needed not only the man but the sex so much. She had never trusted a man the way she trusted John. She knew no matter how kinky or rough or wild the sex got he would never, never hurt her.

She recalled his parting words to her. His voice had been husky, low. Promising retribution. Promising to discipline her even further than a mere spanking, so thoroughly she wouldn't be able to sit still for a week. He had taken a ruler off her desk and smacked it against his palm for emphasis. She felt a sensual shiver at the remembered words, actions. She could hardly wait for the day to end to see what he would do to her, with her. She could hardly keep still on the chair now as sexual images, feelings dominated. She felt so enamored, so happy it made her giddy.

But she frowned. Knowing it was too late. Knowing that she had fallen for him, fallen hard and wondered if he even felt the same. If he ever would. She knew she was heading for heartbreak but was helpless to stop it. It was impossible to stop seeing him, to stop wanting him.

He would have to initiate the break-up, because she couldn't. She wouldn't.

Carson filled the mug, placed it in front of Evan. "On the house."

"Thanks!"

"Just this once." The men smiled.

"Sheppard never quite explained how this would work, did he?" Evan complained. "I mean, if another case involving these Wraith or other ships or anything alien comes along will he send a bat signal into the sky?"

Carson laughed. "Probably nothing that exotic. I'm thinking a simple phone call."

"Huh. That's boring. We need a name." Evan sipped the beer.

"A what?" Carson asked.

"A name. Some code word, you know."

Carson shook his head. "I don't know. What would you call us, then? A ragtag group of people if there ever was one, aren't we? A washed-up detective, a disgraced doctor, a vilified paleontologist and a starving artist? Plus, of course, the shady lawyer and the OCD physicist." He chuckled. "What name could possibly encompass us?"

Evan smiled. Drank his beer, thinking. He watched Carson move along the bar, serving patrons and keeping a watchful eye on any drunk and disorderly conduct. It was odd being back in their regular lives. As if everything that had gone before was a dream, or a story, or some episode in a science fiction show. Evan shook his head, amused at the absurdity of it all. He waited until Carson had returned to him. "Got it."

"Got what? Och, the name? Let's have it, then."

"SGA."

"SGA? That's not a name, that's an acronym. What the bloody hell does that stand for?"

"Star Guardians of America," Evan said, voice serious.

Both men burst into laughter.

Jennifer was fussing, muttering to herself as she worked in the medical lab. She was shaking her head, blond ponytail shifting side to side against her white lab coat. Rodney stood watching her. Seeing why he had fallen for her, even how. Knowing apart from the natural attraction there had been vanity. That a woman like that would ever fall for a guy like him. Apart from the science in their lives they had little else in common. They seemed to be more divided than ever, over the Wraith, over everything.

"Problem?"

She turned to see him. "Are you spying on me now?" she snapped, whiny voice high in pitch. "Sorry!" she apologized, seeing his reaction. "It's just…how could you let that madman interrogate Todd like that? He's got a serious laceration to his face! A cut on his neck! He could have lost an eye! He could have been—"

"Sheppard knew what he was doing, but yes, he did go a little too far," Rodney's words were conciliatory as he neared her. Quiet footsteps on the tiled floor. "We needed answers, Jen. He's not human, you know."

"Which one? Sheppard or Todd?" she quipped. "That doesn't make it right! He's the last of his kind, Rodney. Alone on an alien planet! Never to be reunited with his own kind. For all we know he has a family."

"Do they even have families? I think Doctor O'Meara would disagree."

"Her? What does she know? Some two-bit paleontologist or biologist who has been here all of what, five seconds? Just because Sheppard is her lover doesn't mean that she knows anything about any of this!"

"Picked up on that, did you?" Rodney asked, smiling. More amused than angered. He couldn't be angry with this girl, not for long.

"Of course! It is so obvious!" She snorted, giggled. Touched his arm. "A little bird told me that they even did it here, in the women's restroom! Can you believe that?"

"No. I don't. It's just gossip or—"

"No, it's true! I have an impeachable source! Can you believe that?" she repeated, and Rodney got that junior high school feeling again. He hated that.

"Let's focus on the science at hand, shall we? Todd will fully recover, won't he? Jen?"

"What? Oh, you're no fun, Rodney." She sighed, moved to the microscope. "Yes, he will fully recover. In fact we will be able to see the regenerative power of the enzyme firsthand. It is truly remarkable. The advancement in their tissue structure alone is worth study."

"I'm sure Doctor Beckett would agree with you."

"That Scottish guy? I don't like him. He acts like I don't know anything! He treats me like a med student! This is my lab!"

"It was your lab," Rodney gently reminded. Wishing he was somewhere else, anywhere else. He wondered why had entered the lab in the first place. That diner way out of town beckoned. The isolation. The excellent food. The more excellent company in the person of Katie Brown.

God he was sick of the whining.

"Yes, it was…and is." She stepped to him. Ran her hands up his chest, looking up into his eyes. Expression pouty and sexy all at once. "I know I made a mistake, Rodney, and I am sorry. You can trust me know, I promise. You believe me, don't you?"

"Yes…" But doubt hovered at the edge of his mind.

As if sensing it Jennifer prettily frowned. Then smiled. She kissed him. Ran her hands along his chest. "Oh Rodney…you can. This is my lab. And you are my husband. Let's give Sheppard and his girlfriend a run for their money."

"Huh?"

She laughed. Kissed him again. "Oh Rodney! I love how dense you can be, at times. Let's do it in the lab!"


	7. Chapter 7

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down7

John sat back from his desk, pushing his chair away from the mess on top of it. He glared at the mountain of paperwork heaped into piles that threatened to topple at any second. He rubbed his eyes, weary. All of the investigations were laid out before him. And they did connect, like beads on a necklace but John had to cover it all up somehow. He had to deflect his superiors away from the truth. Not that they would believe it anyway. He sighed, hating this. Hating the dissembling of facts and producing some fiction that was palatable to everyone concerned.

He wished he was back in that lilac bedroom, sprawled on those lilac sheets. Chained to the headboard as Moira rode him. Her long hair flying all around her, naked breasts bouncing, ass bouncing as she took him repeatedly. Her soft sounds aroused the hell out of him. He wanted her. Cursed, at this seemingly endless need of her. Not just the sex but just to talk to her. He needed to ask her about Todd, about so many things pertaining to the Wraith but he kept getting distracted by the sex. He smiled. Not that he minded so much.

He thought about the evening. About what he would do in playful retaliation. The way he had teased her. The way her brown eyes widened in concern, curiosity. Her rosy lips had parted and he drank in her wonder, her worry, her very awe of what he might do, could do to her, with her. He could tie her up. He could take her from behind. He could take her in any number of ways until she begged him to stop. But he wouldn't. He would never hurt her. He wanted to astound her and himself with the maximum sexual pleasure he could devise, invent, indulge.

A smile curved his lips as he considered how to tease her. What to bring to the house. She had no idea what was coming, and John could hardly wait.

"Sheppard? There's a guy asking for ya."

"A guy?" John looked past the mountain of paperwork. "Gee, Danville, could you be any less specific?"

Danville snorted. "Sure. Right there."

A man stepped round Danville and entered the office. He was slight of build, scrawny even. He appeared nervous, gaze darting around the room as if expecting to be attacked. He clasped a hat in both hands. So tightly the whites of his knuckles gleamed against the dark fabric. John didn't recognize him. He gestured. The man stepped to the desk. He still hadn't said a word, hadn't even met John's gaze. "Well?" John snapped, losing patience.

"You."

John waited. The man fell silent again. His voice was calm. "Me what?"

"You. You are investigating the, the case."

"Which case?" John sighed. "Look, pal, I haven't got all day. Spit it out, will ya?"

The man met John's gaze at last. "The aliens. I saw lights in the sky. Their ships. They've landed, haven't they?"

John stood. The last he thing he needed was another nut job. The funny thing was the guy was right. "Sure you did, pal. Get out of my office."

"I saw them! Lights in the sky, coming closer, closer! The aliens attacking people in the desert coming closer, closer! You know all about them! I saw you! With them! The Men In Black! I saw you taking one down with them! I saw you—"

"Enough! You saw nothing but a police investigation! Danville! Get this nut job outta my office!" John shouted, shaking his head. Not sure if the guy was telling the truth or not. He didn't really care as no one would believe him anyway.

"It was you!" the man cried, as Danville pulled him from the room. "I saw you kill that alien! I saw you in the black vans! I saw you near the space ship! I saw you! You! You will bring about the end of the world, John Sheppard!"

"Nice." John followed the guy to the door as Danville forcibly escorted him. "Throw him to the curb! Just another nut job going on about aliens again! Area 51 is that way, pal!" He pointed as the cops broke into laughter.

Yet the man's last words made him feel a momentary chill.

Moira had finally buckled down and gotten to work in the lab. Classifying fossils, typing copious notes into the computer. She examined each fossil, recording its appearance, measuring and weighing and extracting precious DNA for analysis. She was absorbed in her work, forgetting the time, forgetting everything. Except John. The thought of him lingered in her mind, causing her to smile. To wonder what he was doing. But she kept her focus on her work.

A knock startled her. She moved to the door, opened it. "You? How—"

Chuck Campbell moved past her, into the lab as if he belonged there. "Press pass. I'm doing an article on the recent expedition to Mongolia and how the museum is funding such ventures although there are perfectly good digs right here in the USA. They want some good press about the recent disastrous failure but I can only report on the truth hey is that a real fossil?" He picked up a bone and examined it.

"Put that down!" Moira rushed to him. Took the delicate femur and set it back into the Styrofoam packaging. "How did you get in here?"

"I just told you. The museum wants good press over this, and they think I will do that."

"That's not why you're here," she accused.

Chuck smiled at her. Adjusted the hat perched on his head. "No, it's not, Doctor O'Meara," he agreed. "You were right after all. Those weren't animal attacks. They never were. It was a psychotic killer of some sort. I need details."

"No comment," she said. Folding her arms across her chest.

"What? You broke the case wide open! The case covered up by the police and the mayor! A killer was stalking our streets and they wouldn't tell us! Only you had the balls to speak out about it! Sure, they caught the guy, some low life druggie, but you know what? I ain't buying it. Something else is going on here, and you know it. I mean why else would a biologist be attached to LVPD for a mere human criminal?"

"No comment. Get out!"

"What? What is really going on here, doctor? Why would Detective Sheppard need your advice on a case when it had nothing to do with any wild animals and never did? I have unconfirmed sources telling me an incredible tale of exotic alien species and human experimentation and I need concrete proof!"

"You won't find it here," she said. "Leave now. I will call security."

"No, you won't." Chuck smiled. "If there is a real threat the public needs to know. Besides, do you really want another killing spree to erupt? Oh, you didn't know? Animal Control rounded up some feral dogs and killed all of them. Ten in all. To appease the public."

Moira stared. "I…I don't believe you."

"It's true. Didn't Sheppard tell you? He wasn't pleased either. Guess you were in Mongolia when that happened. So tell me before there's another event like that. What are LVPD and the mayor trying to cover up?"

"Buy a woman a drink?"

Carson looked up from cleaning the bar. His thoughts had been far away, marveling over the space aliens and their exotic DNA. He smiled. Thought for a moment. "Weir, right?"

"Elizabeth," she said with a smile. "You're Carson Beckett. The doctor on Sheppard's team. I should be buying you a round, doc. You saved lives out there."

Carson shrugged. "Just doing my job, as you did yours. Weir with her big gun." They laughed. "What's your poison?"

"Something strong and stable. Rather how I like my men."

Carson snorted. "I see. I've got just the thing."

"I bet you do. Not like Sheppard, though. Damn," she softly mourned. Smiled as he returned with two drinks. "Cheers."

"Slainte." They drank.

"Wow!" Elizabeth coughed, setting down the empty glass. "You could have warned a girl!"

Carson chuckled. "I thought you liked it strong."

"True." She eyed him, assessing. "Let's drink to something strong. You're not seeing anyone, are you?"

Carson smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down8

John shoved aside another pile of folders. He stretched his arms over his head, interlocking his fingers. He groaned as his back protested the motion. He had been hunched over the reports for hours and was still getting nowhere. He lowered his arms. Eyed his wrists. Recalled the handcuffs and smiled. He fingered the white braided wristband he always wore. So far Moira hadn't asked about it. He had seen her curiosity, her concern. He hadn't offered any explanations and was glad she hadn't asked about it. Yet.

He wondered what she was doing right now. It had to be more exciting than what he was doing. Then again she was a paleontologist and was probably poring over some old bones. John smiled, a lewd joke coming to mind. With a sigh he grabbed another folder from the pile.

"Shep! Shots fired, one vic down, perp on the run. Let's go!"

John moved to his feet. Never had he been so glad to catch a homicide.

Following the phalanx of cop cars, sirens wailing he found himself in familiar territory. On the wrong side of town. The Athosian Fields was a low-end casino. Tucked in among other equally derelict casinos and strip joints and the inevitable wedding chapel. The street was tawdry, lined not with tourists but with drunkards and thieves and criminals and prostitutes that even John wouldn't consider touching much less fucking. He parked amid the cop cars. Pushed his way past people to enter the shoddy establishment.

It was a small place, crowded with slot machines and felt-covered tables for card games. It was dirty, dingy, dark but John felt right at home. At least he would have only months ago. He pondered the change and the cause of it as he headed for the body. The jingling of the slot machines had not ceased, nor had the gamblers for a mere murder.

The body was in the back of the casino. Blood was seeping into the blue carpet from a gunshot wound to the head. "Suspect in custody?" John asked.

"In pursuit, down an alley. But we've got him either way."

"Him?"

"Scott Hamen. Shot this guy over a bet. We've got witnesses to the whole thing. Pretty cut and dried for a change, eh Shep?"

"Looks like it, Sayles. Vic?"

"Business partner. Tom Troy Palmer. He had just finished some, er, business with a pross when he got into it with Hamen. The proprietor saw it all." He jerked a thumb towards an overweight man haranguing the police, gesturing wildly.

John frowned. A simple murder case, open and shut. It was already solved and wouldn't keep him out of the office for long. Wouldn't keep his interest either. "Put out an APB for Hamen in case you can't catch him. He won't get far. Tourists."

"How can you tell?"

"The shoes. Nothing else?"

"No. You wanna take witness statements?"

"No. That's your job. Mine's done." John turned as DeMouy entered. The Asian woman appeared tired. She glanced at the body as John said, "GSW, nothing fancy."

"You doing my job now?"

He shrugged. "Sounds like you need a vacation, DeMouy. Have at it."

"John? John, I didn't mean to snap like that, I just…oh shit."

John ignored her. He crossed the small expanse of the casino, passing the ever-ringing slot machines and the people plying them with coins. He shook his head. Suddenly every machine started to ring like mad. Every machine had spun and spun and lined up a triple jackpot. People were shouting, screaming as a river of wealth poured from every machine. John stared at the blinking lights, the flow of nickels, quarters, half-dollars and dollar coins. As stunned as everyone else. "Son of a bitch!" he muttered, regretting resisting the impulse to place a coin in one of the machines.

The owner started to weep.

"Son of a bitch!" Moira said, as she dragged and pulled the hapless reporter out of her lab, up the stairs and towards the exit. "You aren't doing the museum any favors! You are digging for a story? Fine, go out there and find one! There's no story here! Got it?"

"I know the story is right here, O'Meara! You can't just throw me out of here! I am here at the express behest of the museum and I know you know something! It's all tied together, I know it, and you know it, and—"

"If you're not going to do a story on the museum then get out!" She freed him, pushed him towards the glass door. She stopped as a bird hit the glass. Fell to the ground. "What the?"

"What the?" Chuck echoed, as startled as she was. He opened the door. Cautiously stepped outside of the building.

Moira followed. She knelt near the little body. The bird lay on the sidewalk. "It's probably just stunned. Got confused or—"

"I don't think so. Look! It's happening again!"

Moira stood. Stared in shock as the blue sky. Birds were falling out of it, as if being dumped by some huge hand. Like dark rain they fell, silent. Black feathers wafting on the breeze but the birds weren't flying. They were falling like stones, already dead. Littering the sidewalk, the street, the parking lot. Wave after wave fell and Chuck guided Moira backwards under the overhang of the building.

"I…I don't believe it," she muttered.

"I think I just found my story," Chuck stated. "Aflockocalypse Two."

Evan smiled. "I'm sure you will be quite, happy with it. It's one of a kind, an exquisite expression of light and imagery." He guided the two women out of his art gallery, glad to see them go at last. Tired of pandering to them, humoring them and finally clinching the sale. He headed back for the counter. "And I will enjoy spending that check," he muttered.

With any luck he would break even this month, maybe even enjoy a modest profit. He looked at the sketches he had been making. Drawings of the space alien, the alien ships, the facility. Despite himself he was fascinated by all of it, but particularly by the ships. He wondered what it would be like to fly one. To actually fly into space. It would be much more exciting to investigate that ship and the technology that took it to the stars. Much more interesting than selling overpriced paintings to wealthy but boring clients.

He sighed. Reprimanding himself for daydreaming, even though it was all true. Space aliens. Ships from space. He glanced at his watch. Frowned. It had stopped. He tapped the surface, but the little hands wouldn't move. He looked at the clock on the wall. Saw that it had stopped as well. At the same time as the watch.

Curious he moved to the back of the gallery. Switched on the television, but there were no stories of breaking news. Only the usual mix of reality programs and paid programming adverts for things no one really needed. There was a crawler on one channel about the increasing tornado activity in the Mid-West.

He turned to the computer. It was working fine. Except for one thing. The clock was frozen on it as well. Stuck at the same time as his watch, as the clock on the wall. He stared at the numbers, trying to find an explanation, a reason, any kind of significance. He shook his head at the numbers. They didn't mean a thing to him except for being the time.

6:15.


	9. Chapter 9

Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down9

Moira stood outside the lab, watching the haze of sunset color the listless sky in shades of orange and gold. The dead birds had all been cleared away, kept for analysis. Although she knew that such natural die-offs were not an unusual event to have so many so frequently was alarming. She wondered if the alien pathogen was to blame, although it seemed unlikely now that the virus was inert and contained. All sources destroyed. She stared accusingly at the sky, as if somehow it was to blame.

She smiled as a familiar red car pulled up to the curb. The handsome man inside leaned over and opened the car door for her. "John." She got into the car, setting a case full of folders onto her lap, balancing a copy of _Paradise Lost_ on top. "Is everything all right?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Moira," he said, glancing at her odd choice of reading material. "I need to make a quick stop at the facility. Okay?"

"Of course," she answered as he drove back into the street. "John, is everything all right?" she repeated, seeing the tension in his body. The foul mood he was trying to bury.

"No," he answered. He maneuvered the car through traffic, changing lanes. He frowned as he was impeded by volume. He hated rush hour. "Afterwards let's grab some dinner at that new Italian place, then go to yours."

"Okay," she agreed. She waited, but he was silent. Eyes on the traffic in front of him. The neon lights of Vegas were garish against the colorful sunset. Splashing hues onto the red car, onto John himself as he brooded, brooded. Full, perfect lips turned downward. Green eyes narrowed, brow furrowing in thought. "John? What happened? Another case?"

"No. Yes, but no. God, I sound like you now." He glanced at her, smiled. She smiled. It seemed to relax him. His grip loosened on the wheel. He was gaining speed now that he was out of the city. Hitting the open road and driving right into the sunset as it sprayed across the distant hills. "Hendricks. He knows. Not about this, but he suspects all these damn cases are interconnected. He wants to get to the bottom of it. He put together a taskforce to do just that. And guess who's in charge of it?"

"You."

"Got it in one, baby."

"Well, that's good, isn't it, sweetie? You'll be able to control all of it. What was it? Disinformation, like you told me before."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm walking affine line here, Moira, and now it just got thinner. I'll be bouncing between the two jobs and I don't like that. Not at all. If I make a mistake, just one then it's over. All of it." He glanced at her. Saw her concern. Her affection. "Besides, the only thing I want to bounce is that pert little ass of yours. Repeatedly."

She rolled her eyes. "John! What will you do?"

"Look in the back."

"The huh?"

"The back of the car. Back seat," he clarified.

She turned to see the back seat. To see a variety of things. A wide ruler. A blindfold. A pair of sliver clips linked by a silver chain. A police baton, but it was smaller, longer, with a rounded head. She gulped, recalling his promises. Eyed him. "Very funny, John."

He smiled at her. "Discipline, baby. Don't worry. I am a fully qualified police detective. I know what I'm doing." He chuckled at her chagrin, her worry. The way she shifted in the seat. "Never fear, baby, you won't be hurt. Much."

"John! If you think for one minute you are going to use any of that, that stuff on me then you—"

"Don't start an argument, Moira! You know it makes me stiff. Oh, we're here."

"What? You son of a…oh."

He laughed. Parked the car and strolled with her to the bland building. "This won't take long. I just need to see McKay and then we can go. Hmm…I wonder if they have a whip you could borrow."

"John!" She hit his arm. He laughed, but sobered as they entered the building. Were directed to a lower level after showing their identification.

John's steps slowed as he realized where they were heading . "Great," he muttered. "I hope we won't be interrupting a feeding. I just lost my appetite. For food, anyway."

"What? Oh…Todd," she realized.

The room was dark. Blue light showered down on the cell where Todd was standing. Thankfully he had finished his meal. The volunteer was hunched in a chair, being tended to by Jennifer. Rodney stood watching, hands clasped behind his back. A stern expression on his face. At their approach he turned, met them halfway. "John. Moira. I've just been having a chat with our friend there."

"Was he cooperative?" John asked, gaze darting to the Wraith.

"No. Not really, not until I offered something he wanted. Come here." He led them across the room to a bank of monitors. "These feeds are telling me that something is going on."

"With Todd?"

"Yes. And no. More importantly something is going on with the Earth's magnetic field. All of these fluctuations in the atmosphere we've been monitoring seem sporadic, just the results of the solar wind or normal fluctuations in the geomagnetic field. But I've been seeing a slight increase in the charged particles in the Van Allen belt. Almost as if something is flexing between the two belts. As you know the magnetic field isn't uniform around the Earth. Nor is the radiation belt, and if something is exciting these electrons from a ground state then—"

"Whoa, science guy, slow down," John complained.

"That would explain the birds. Another die-off because of the magnetic field disruption," Moira noted, but frowned. "There have been a lot of those. Die-offs, I mean."

"Not to mention the rise in stronger weather patterns, more severe storms. Tsunamis, earthquakes, tornadoes. Rainstorms and snowstorms and the oppressive heat index that keeps rising. And the melting glaciers which affects the ocean currents and the temperature of the ocean itself. Some of these events have been strong enough to shift the Earth's axis, affect its rotation so we are spinning a little faster. Cities have been moved, like Concepcion in Chile. It moved three meters to the west. Even countries. Japan is thirteen inches closer to us now. And the day is now 1.8 microseconds shorter."

"It's like the Earth is trying to shake us off and reclaim her own again," Moira agreed. "The effects of global warming and destroying our environment, not to mention making species after species extinct all seem to be accelerating."

"So, now it's our turn?" John asked. "What does any of that have to do with this?"

Rodney shook his head. "I don't know. Yet. But if something big were to happen up there it would have an affect down here." He sighed. "I just don't have enough data to verify anything yet. Todd spouts poetry and we're recording it all, even though it is all nonsense."

"Probably." John couldn't shake the suspicion that it wasn't all nonsense. He turned as Moira was heading for the cell. She stopped. Todd was standing in the middle of the cell, arms at his sides. Staring at nothing, as if listening to something only he could hear

Moira took a step closer, alternately fascinated and repelled, but John's hand on her wrist halted her advance.

"Let's go." He moved to Rodney. "I need to talk to you about work, but later," he said, as Moira followed him out of the room. "All that science is giving me a headache."

Todd watched them leave. He had been intently watching them, listening to them as they spoke. These primitive humans and their theories. What they laughingly called their science. Realizing they were destroying their own planet but they did nothing about it. They had no idea. Not a clue. It was too late and they didn't even know it.

He had watched the woman approach, saw her interest and her revulsion.

He had seen John Sheppard stop her. And he knew.

It was a small motion. Not even a word. A small gesture, a negligible touch. His hand on her wrist. His fingers sliding to her inner wrist. Not at all intimate. Not at all noticeable. Yet it had halted her. It had made her acquiesce to him. This small touch that was so familiar, yet so innocent. Unremarkable.

But Todd knew. He knew at last the final piece. The one thing he had been waiting to learn. He knew at last what would break John Sheppard.

Todd smiled.


End file.
